Alex sat in her office thinking about the visit to Corey Davies’s house. She had hoped that Chloe would be able to persuade Corey to speak to her, but the boy’s condition was more complex than either of them had realised. Even had his autism not affected him socially, the attack would have been enough to render him speechless. Was he reluctant to talk about it because he didn’t want to return to the event, or did his fear run deeper?

She was pulled from her thoughts by the ringing of her mobile phone on the desk in front of her.

‘Alex King.’

‘Alex, it’s Helen.’

She reached for a pen and a notepad. She had been anticipating this call from the pathologist all day, hoping that details of the post-mortem analysis might offer clues about the person responsible for Doris Adams’s death.

‘I’ve just sent the PM report over,’ Helen told her. ‘We’re looking at another vicious assault, I’m afraid.’

Alex’s thoughts returned to Gary Peters’ post-mortem. Lung disease brought about by years of sleeping in damp and cold conditions had rendered him unable to fight back against his attacker. Similarly, Doris had been frail and elderly. It wouldn’t have taken much of an assault to disable her, and little more to end her life.

She felt a sickening anger surge through her once again. Whoever they were hunting was a cowardly bastard.

‘Blunt-force trauma to the front of the head – the details are all in the report. I have found something of significant interest, though. The victim sustained a prolonged assault, mainly to the torso. She was stamped on. Despite the bruising, a very clear print has been left just beneath the ribcage.’

‘A print? From a shoe?’

‘Looks like a boot print. The images are in the email I’ve sent you.’

As Helen continued to speak, Alex logged into her email account. She opened the post-mortem report, quickly moving on to the images that accompanied it. Her stomach turned at the sight of Doris’s corpse laid bare on the pathologist’s table, her pale skin stained with a smattering of black and purple bruising. Helen was right: a visible boot print had been left upon the victim’s body.

‘You’re lucky she was removed from the building before the fire spread any further,’ Helen said.

Alex understood the implication, but the word ‘lucky’ seemed inappropriate under the circumstances. She studied the image of the pattern imprinted on Doris’s frail torso. With a match, would it be enough to convict? They would need to find the old lady’s DNA on the boot, and she realised the chances of doing so were slim. With every turn the case took, Alex felt herself grow less and less confident. Whoever the killer was, it seemed that yet again he was getting the better of them.

‘Thanks for this,’ she said, unable to keep the lack of enthusiasm from her voice.

She ended the call and left the office to get a coffee. Reading the details of the report was going to require a caffeine hit at the very least. She passed the incident room hurriedly, not wanting to see Dan. Their contact had been minimal during those past couple of days, and if the case permitted it that was how she wanted things to stay. She felt bad enough as it was, and seeing him only made the guilt worse. It wasn’t just the kiss that was getting to her: it was the knowledge that if Dan had allowed her to, she would have willingly taken things further.

She returned to her office, focusing her thoughts back on the case. When she got there, Chloe was waiting for her. ‘Listen,’ she said, holding her mobile out in front of her.

‘You have one message,’ said the voicemail.

There was a long beep, followed by a moment’s silence. Someone could be heard clearing their throat.

‘Um … it’s Faadi. Faadi Hassan. Please don’t tell anyone about this, but there’s something I need to tell you. It’s Syed. Syed started the fire.’

The message ended abruptly, as though Faadi had changed his mind too late.

‘Have you called him back?’

‘No answer. I’ll keep trying.’

Alex opened the door to her office, ushering Chloe inside. ‘We need a search warrant for the Hassan house. Ideally, we need to get our hands on their laptops. If that skeleton outfit was bought online, there’ll be a history of it somewhere.’

‘Why is Faadi saying this now? This can’t have just come out of the blue.’

‘Keep trying his phone. Let me know when you manage to get hold of him. We don’t even know which fire he means – we’re only assuming he’s referring to the shop.’

Alex sat down and pushed Doris Adams’s post-mortem report across the desk to Chloe. ‘This’ll be keeping me busy for the next couple of hours.’ She turned her attention to the computer and pulled up the image of the boot mark left on Doris’s body.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Chloe said, shaking her head.

‘Have you seen Dan? How’s he getting on with the check on the Hassans’ finances?’

‘You should ask him. You can’t keep avoiding him forever.’

‘I’m not.’

Chloe raised an eyebrow. ‘Just sort things out. This is a good team. It’d be a shame to lose it all over a stupid mistake.’

Alex was grateful for the interruption of Chloe’s phone. She took her mobile from her pocket and glanced at the screen.

‘Faadi,’ she said. ‘Thanks for calling me back.’

---

In the incident room, Alex sought out Dan. Chloe was right: they were a good team. What had happened on Sunday had been stupid and shameful, but they couldn’t let it interfere with the case.

‘Any joy with the background check on the Hassans?’ she asked him, lingering at the side of his desk.

‘So far, it seems the shop has been doing fine. No one’s going to retire a millionaire off the back of it, but no signs of debt either. No apparent reason for an attempt at an insurance claim.’

Alex noticed that Dan didn’t look up when he spoke to her, avoiding any eye contact. She wanted to talk to him, to clear the air, but there never seemed an appropriate time and there were always other people around; people neither of them would want overhearing what needed to be said. She wondered whether there would ever be an appropriate time for such a conversation.

‘Who does the shop belong to?’ she asked. ‘Legally.’

‘Everything’s registered in Mahira Hassan’s name.’

Alex nodded. Something wasn’t adding up, and it hadn’t since the arson attack. She knew the family had been the victims of hate crime – their complaints of harassment had been logged, though there had never been sufficient evidence to lead to any convictions – but the arson attack bore no similarity to any of the family’s previous complaints.

‘Youssef Hassan has another job, doesn’t he?’

‘Works as a sales rep for a stationery company. They sell to offices and schools.’

‘What about the two older sons?’

Dan shook his head. ‘Unemployed on paper, but they help out at the shop apparently.’ He turned back to his computer.

‘Dan,’ Alex said, looking over her shoulder to check there was no one close. ‘Can we talk now?’

Without looking up, Dan shook his head. ‘Probably not the best place here.’

‘My office?’

There was a pause. ‘Give me five minutes.’

Ten minutes later, Dan came into the office. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t move any further into the room, making it clear the conversation was to be a brief one. It was the way Alex wanted to keep things too.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, the words escaping hurriedly.

‘So am I.’

‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I wasn’t thinking. I just—’

‘It’s my fault,’ Dan interrupted.

‘It’s really not.’ Alex sighed and ran her hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. ‘Look … we’re a good team. All of us, I mean. I shouldn’t have … I just don’t want this to get in the way of our work. All our focus should be on this case.’

‘Chloe knows.’

Alex nodded.

‘She won’t say anything to anyone, will she?’

Alex shook her head. Chloe might be angry with her, but one thing Alex could depend on was her word. She would just have to hope that the younger woman would eventually forgive her.

She watched Dan leave the office, knowing his guilt was likely to be even worse than hers. Chloe might come to forgive her in time, she thought, but forgiving herself was going to take a lot longer.